Chapter 9: May 13, 2006

The next couple of months of 2006 slipped by quickly, with Tyrone successfully defending his dissertation and getting clearance to graduate that May. Megan popped by occasionally, but always from the future.

With his best friend and housemate graduating with a doctorate, though, there wasn’t even a question of Rory attending the commencement ceremony.

The weather itself on that day was a slightly overcast and chilly day, but the jubilation in the air more than made up for it. Rory packed into the university’s arena stands along with Tyrone’s family, and they sat through a litany of speeches, and cheered when Tyrone was granted his diploma.

Rory then zoned out as the ceremony moved to undergraduate degrees. They split the commencement addresses based on major for some reason, so he had to sit through another litany of names.

But one of them suddenly piqued his interest. “Megan Green.”

She was graduating at the same time as Tyrone—just with an undergraduate degree, not a graduate degree.

He watched as best he could as she took the stage, and he realized that she was significantly along in her pregnancy as she shuffled up, shook the dean’s hand, and got her diploma.

He ran through his memories, trying to place how far along she would be. When she showed up that very first time, that was when she was what, five months? She’d said she was 2006 then, but what month? She’d been wearing a blue shirt, and its sleeves were what, long? That meant probably winter months, which meant she was probably now eight or nine months pregnant?

And he hadn’t even gotten her pregnant yet! At least, this pregnancy, from his perspective.

She smiled for the picture and waddled her way off stage back to her seat.

What an odd coincidence.

His head spun for the (thankfully short) remainder of the ceremony, and then everyone broke to go do whatever. He followed Tyrone’s family as they gathered on the green outside the arena, taking pictures.

He smiled and waited as Tyrone’s family doted over the newly minted doctor, celebrating his accomplishments. He looked around here and there, just in case, but he didn’t have much chance of—

“Excuse me?”

He knew that voice very well. Megan. But she was being ... polite? “Yes?” he asked, realizing he needed to play along with whatever game she might have going on. Time travel, after all. He turned to look at the source.

And there was Megan, still in her graduation robe, beaming from ear to ear, with a massive pregnant belly—the largest he’d ever seen on her. “Do you mind helping take a picture of me with my parents?” There was a twinkle in her eye, and then she winked.

She recognized him, of course.

This was the day they “met”.

“Uh, sure,” he said, trying to play the part, pretending like he didn’t know her. She handed over a camera—a fancy digital one. “Say cheese!”

She lined up with her parents—he could see the resemblance, with her mom having the same curves she would eventually grow into, and the line of her father’s jaw so very apparent in her face. “Cheese!” they all said, and he snapped a couple of pictures, just to be sure.

“I hope one of these turns out well,” he said, handing the camera back over.

“Me too,” she replied, handing the camera herself to her parents. She extended a hand to him. “I’m Megan, by the way.”

“Oh, uh, I’m Rory,” he said, practically tripping over himself to extend his own hand and shake hers. “It’s nice to meet you. Congratulations, by the way. On both the graduation and the impending.” He glanced over at Tyrone and his family—they were still taking pictures, and Tyrone gave him a small nod. He was free to go—besides, there would be a celebratory meal at their house later in the day. He’d catch up then.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling, hesitating a moment, like she wanted him to chat her up.

Right, this is where they met. As random strangers at her graduation. There had to be some excuse for him to get her number or email address or something like that, right?

“Are you graduating today, too?” her father said, stepping forward and giving him a once-over.

“No, just here to support a friend,” Rory thumbed back to indicate Tyrone. “I graduated a couple of years ago, and have a house just a few blocks from campus.” He glanced at the family, deciding to be a bumbling idiot and broach a trouble-rousing topic. “So ... just the three of you?” He glanced down at Megan’s pregnant belly, to make his implication clear.

“She doesn’t know who the father is,” her mother helpfully supplied. Megan rolled her eyes, playing along.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Rory said, very much not sure what to say. “So uh ... what are your plans from here? Do you have a job lined up, or... ?” He mentally kicked himself for being so absolutely terrible at this—especially with her parents there.

“There’s a lot up in the air,” Megan replied, a frown on her lips. “I feel like I’ll be a little unstuck with the baby coming, if you know what I mean. I’m not exactly looking forward to being a single mom, after all.”

“Ouch, that really sucks,” he said, searching for something else to say, trying to find something to use to keep talking with her, to find a way of getting a way of convincingly talking with her again in the future. It was much harder with her parents around! “So where’s home? I’m guessing you’re moving back?”

Her father’s face wrinkled in disgust. “For now, yes. It would be much better if we knew who the father was; we’d make sure he took care of his baby.” It looked like Megan was trying very hard to keep a straight face as her father talked; thankfully, neither of her parents was looking at her. “But I guess we’ll have to make do until we find a way to get her out of the house.”

Rory thought that was awfully callous of him, and opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t figure out a good way to say it politely before Megan’s mother spoke up, chiding her husband. “We’re not that cruel, dear. People make mistakes, and we should have grace and mercy for their—”

“We’ve been over this before, Martha,” he said, focusing on her. “She should have kept her legs closed instead of being a little slut. I told you sending her away to college was a bad idea!”

“Whoa,” Rory said, deciding that this was not the right place for that sort of argument. Not that anywhere was, really, but a graduation ceremony was among the worst. He stepped forward, physically halfway interposing himself between the two. “What’s done is done, and unless you happen to have a time machine—which my friend over there with a PhD in physics tells me is quite impossible—we can’t change it. You should figure out the best path forward for—Megan, right?” He glanced at her, and she nodded, a small smile threatening its way out of her otherwise stoic face. He turned back to her father. “The best path forward for Megan and the baby. Maybe that’s living with you, maybe it isn’t, but you should afford yourself the possibility.”

Her father looked sufficiently contrite and wounded, and they stood there quiet—jubilation still going on around them—for a few moments before Megan’s mother put a hand on Rory’s arm. “We’ve had this discussion many time before,” she commented. Rory stepped back, defering to his future mother-in-law. “But we also have issues with money, and we had been hoping that she’d be able to get a job and...” Her lip started to tremble.

“I can take care of myself, mom,” Megan protested, rolling her eyes as she shook her head. “Please stop trying to pawn me off on every nice man you meet just because of your outdated ideals about family.”

Rory decided that this argument, too, needed an intervention. He looked directly at Megan. “Do you plan on staying in town after graduation or ... where’s home, again?”

“We live in town,” Megan’s mother answered. “So yes.”

The fact that he knew he would be marrying Megan sooner or later, and having kids with her made him consider that. He didn’t like the idea of actually living so close to his in-laws. Still, the fact that they seemed to almost want her to get married or something like that could play in his favor. “Well, then,” he said, scrambling to think of something. Something suddenly clicked, and he started talking quickly. “I ... well, I can’t promise anything, but I know my boss has been thinking of bringing on someone else to help with sorting some paperwork that got mixed up because of a filing cabinet snafu a while back. Gave us lots of trouble for tax season, and she doesn’t want that sort of thing happening again.” It was a bald-faced lie, of course, but it would lead him to where he wanted to go. “And while I know we just met, Megan, she might be amenable to a recent college graduate on her first job, especially since it’d be a temporary assignment at first, and maybe you’d be able to move into something more permanent?”

“In case you didn’t notice,” her father noted dryly. “She’s about to have a baby.”

“It’s the sort of task that can be easily done from home, on your own time,” Rory said. “Or at my place, so it doesn’t get in the way. There will be plenty of time to deal with the baby and do the work.”

Her father looked skeptical. “I don’t think you know just how much work a baby is, son.”

“Maybe not, but I’m just trying to help,” Rory said with a shrug. A glance over at Megan told him that she was still trying really hard not to laugh.

Her father looked at him with a half-frown-half-scowl on his face, and it seemed like he was almost weighing his options. It was a pretty flimsy excuse, really, and it was entirely possible he saw right through the lie—but even if it was just an opportunity to get in his daughter’s pants, that would increase the chances that she would find someone and settle down, since there was someone possibly offering that right here—why else suggest coming over to the house?

“It is ... something,” Megan’s mother said, a similar range of expressions on her face—she was probably having very similar thoughts.

Though Rory realized the idea of a man just showing up in the life of a very pregnant college graduate and wanting a long-term relationship—knowing full well he would be raising someone else’s child from birth—was a somewhat ludicrous one. And they had no idea he was actually the father. Would be the father.

“It’s better than nothing,” Megan said, putting on a smile, and stepping forward. “And I’d like to try for the job. Uh, do you need my number or something?”

“Yeah,” Rory replied, nodding. “I still have to run it by my boss and all, so who knows. And why don’t I also give you my number, to show how serious I am? That way you can call me to check up and all that.” He pulled his wallet out of a pocket and slipped a business card—which had his cell phone number—out of it, and handed it to Megan. If her parents examined it too closely, it might give up the ruse, but he had a feeling they wouldn’t. “Do you have a pen and paper?”

“One moment,” her mother said, fishing around in her purse. She pulled out a small pad of paper, handing it and a pen to Megan, who quickly jotted a number down, tore the paper off, and handed it to Rory.

“It was nice to meet you, Rory,” she said with a smile. “I’ll give you a call soon, in case I don’t hear back from you. It would be really nice to have some job, what with the baby coming.”

“Yeah,” he said with a laugh, pocketing the number. “I hear they can be real milk vampires sometimes.” It made her parents chuckle, and Megan tilted her head before joining in, like she hadn’t thought of that appellation before.

“We do have reservations to get to soon,” Megan’s father finally said with a small cough. “So while it was nice to meet you, William, I’m afraid we need to be going.”

“Of course. My housemate—the aforementioned newly minted physics PhD—is doing his big party at our place, so I need to get back and set up for that. We’ll be in touch, Miss Green.”

The look of concern that suddenly fell on Megan’s face told him that he had just made a grave error: there was no way he should have known her last name! They had never said it!

Both of her parents looked at him, confused, then shook their heads in unison, and began escorting Megan away.

He let out a sigh of relief. They had met and had contact information. The rest could proceed from there.

Back at the house, Rory mostly stayed in the background, helping everything run smoothly while Tyrone’s family cooked up a large meal and hung out. He played some bid whist—which he thoroughly lost at—got chatted up by one of Tyrone’s cousins who looked to be in high school—he mostly just shrugged and smiled and let her have her fun—and made sure all of the leftovers had somewhere to go in his fridge.

As evening wore on, some of the people with smaller kids began to disappear back to their hotel rooms, and things began to be a little more serious. But between the life-or-death bid whist game going on in the kitchen, and the what-are-you-doing-next discussion with Tyrone in the living room—the answer of course being “stay in town for research”, but he had to sell that convincingly—Rory didn’t feel like he had much of a place to go, so he retreated to his room for a little while.

As he was sitting there, mindlessly browsing the Internet, his cell phone rang, with a number he didn’t recognize, though he noticed it was local. He flipped it open and put it up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey there uh ... Rory ... Daniels?” It was Megan’s voice, and he couldn’t help but smile, though he gathered her parents were within earshot. “We met today at the graduation ceremony.”

“Yeah, the girl looking for the job sorting things, right?” he said, trying to continue the charade just in case her parents were listening in on another handset or something. “What’s up?”

“I uh ... don’t mean to bother you so late.” He glanced at the clock; it wasn’t all that late for him, really. “And I know you probably haven’t talked to your boss yet...”

“Yeah, I was going to talk with her on Monday.”

“But I was kind of hoping to get some time to talk with you a little more about this job. Get a few more details, that sort of thing.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, wondering where she was going with this. “I mean, I can talk through it a little with you right now if you like.”

“I was actually thinking it would be nice to have a conversation in person.”

“Sure.” He figured he knew what she was getting at, but needed to play clueless, just in case. “Were you wanting to meet up tomorrow?”

“Actually,” she said, and he could just imagine her there, nine months pregnant, twirling the telephone cord around her finger. “I was kind of thinking maybe ... tonight? I can’t drive—I haven’t gotten my license—but if it’s not too much trouble, maybe you could ... come pick me up and we could maybe hit up a drive-through or get a quickie meal or something—you know how pregnancy makes a girl hungry—and talk through it.”

He paused. What did her parents think of that? Would they even go for it? But she sounded like she wanted to get out of that house—and he didn’t miss her innuendo. A future Megan hadn’t popped in for a couple of days, and he also tended to save himself up for her, so the idea of actually getting in some time sounded very good. “Hm,” he said thoughtfully, glancing at his closed door, thinking of the people beyond. It was Tyrone’s party, and he wasn’t sure how much his housemate would appreciate him ditching it, especially for Megan. He certainly couldn’t bring Megan back, that was for sure; it would invite way too many questions. And her house was out of the question.

But he wanted to see her regardless. “Please?” she pleaded, and he heard a note of desperation in that voice. There was something more there.

“Sure,” he replied, reaching to grab an index card and a pen. “What’s your address?” She listed it off, and he wrote it down. “Alrighty. I’ll look it up on Mapquest and—”

“Oh, they always say to take a left when you need to take a right when you get to the gas station, but yeah, I think that’ll get you to us.”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” he said. “Silver Honda Civic. See you then.”

“See you, Mister Daniels,” she replied, and the line clicked.

He sighed, then quickly looked up the directions online. He printed them out and folded up the sheet, then walked out to the living room, where Tyrone was deep in discussion with some of his family about politics.

“Hey,” Rory said, sidling up to make it clear he wanted a quick conversation with Tyrone.

“What’s up?”

Rory tapped the folded-up directions against one hand. “So I met someone at graduation that might be interested in a job at my company. Real go-getter, wants to talk about the job some more, even though it’s night and all. Apparently has a craving for late-night fast food.”

Tyrone scratched his chin, a knowing look on his face. “This the person I saw you talking with after the ceremony?” Rory nodded, and Tyrone nodded back. “Yeah, I’m not offended if you want to go spend some time with them. We’ll be fine here, though we’ll probably be going late...” The implication was clear: don’t bring her back tonight.

“No problem. I don’t think it’ll be that long.” He got up from crouching, and waved goodbye to everyone. Tyrone smirked at him and shook his head, but still waved.

Rory slipped his shoes on then left.

Once he found Megan’s house, he didn’t even have to get out of the car—she was waiting on the front porch for him.

She waved, then stuck her head in the door to her house to—presumably—tell her parents, then she scurried down the way to his car, eventually getting in the passenger side and buckling up.

“Oh my goddess thank you so much for getting me out of there!” she exclaimed.

“Uh, hello to you, too?” Rory said, hitting the gas and starting to go. “So does this count as meeting in real time? Have we finally met met?”

“Yes and yes, thank goddess,” she said with a laugh. “Also, you always told me that we’d meet right after my graduation ceremony, but you never told me the silly excuse you came up with to give me your number!”

“At least you were expecting it. I was caught completely off-guard; I would have liked to have had some time to prepare!”

“That’s probably why you told me not to tell you. If you did know, you would have tried to prepare, and anything you thought of beforehand wouldn’t actually go over as well as what you did do!”

“A thinly-veiled way of asking you out on a date?” he wondered, rolling to a stop at a stoplight. “So ... where are we going?”

“I was kinda hoping your place,” she said. “And yes, they very much think that this is just some fling that won’t come to anything because I’m a hussy who can’t keep my legs together.” She chuckled. “Which I can’t, when it comes to you.”